I ran my first marathon. I learned that marathons are long. (Madison Marathon RR)

Three days removed, and writing that sentence out still gives me this goofy grin, followed immediately by the urge to rub my calves and reflect on the fact that I am now certifiably insane, and have a medal to prove it. They gave me a medal.....for being either crazy or stupid enough to pay good money to run for nearly 5 hours. For regular marathon runners, perhaps this concept isn't enough to warrant the incredulous fits of hysterical giggling that I'm occasionally experiencing, but as a first time marathon finisher, I'm still trying to figure out what just happened.

I ran a marathon.

I guess since this is a blog post, it's expected that at some point I move on to the actual race report rather than spending several pages attempting to understand that I actually did the race, and I'm not just in some post-race haze and imagining the whole thing. So here we go, hopefully.

"Marathon Weekend", as it is so called, started Saturday afternoon. Fellow Loopster chayes1019 AKA Christine AKA a close family friend since I was age 0 came down to be a part of the cheering squad. She had been originally thinking of doing the half, but is smarter than me and decided instead to have a relaxing weekend of cheering, sign making and beer drinking. My parents also headed over to my house, where they graciously provided us all with a pasta dinner that was eons above my cooking skills (so not Mac and Cheese or frozen pizza). My mom also made me brownies. The M&Ms were strategically placed to assure I wouldn't forget how far I needed to go.

After a relaxing night of eating and playing Cards Against Humanity (and teaching my poor mother the definition of words I never hoped to have to say in front of her), we headed to bed early. I fully expected to get no sleep, as is usually the case before a big race, but for whatever reason I slept like a baby. I have a theory that I reached a threshold and my body simply went unconscious from the anxiety.

The next morning came bright and early. Emily and Christine eventually had to usher me out the door while I frantically attempted to clean the entire house and make sure that they had 100 layers of winter gear for the day (I like to project my stress onto other things in order to not physically implode).

We arrived at the downtown area around 7am, and immediately realized that the fact that the capitol is on a hill would make it COLD. The wind was strong on the hill, so we walked around quite a bit to try to stay warm. We apparently milled around from an hour. It felt like 10 minutes. In no time, we were lining up for the race.

The only real complaint I had about the race organization was immediately at the start. With something like 1,500 runners starting, Madison Marathon thought it would work out okay to condense everyone into a tiny chute with pacers about 3 yards from each other. I believe the 3:20 pacer was about 15 yards from the 5:20 pacer. It was a little silly, and a lot of runners just stood outside the chute. I squeezed my way in for body heat, and looked nervously at Emily for reassurance. She looked back at me with an expression that very clearly said "HAHAHA IM NOT DOING THIS". And took pictures.

The gun went off after much announcing that I have no memory of. Panicked brains have no patience for listening. As expected, about 300 fast runners went flying through hordes of slower runners because they didn't fit in the tiny start chute. The competitive side of my brain got super excited and said, "WE CAN RUN THAT FAST!", completely ignoring the fact that this was a marathon.

"You're right brain! We should find the 4:20 marathon guy and totally keep up with him! It'll be fun!"

Almost instantly (seriously, the pacers were that close) I found myself behind the guy carrying the 4:20 marathon pace sign. A parenthetical note at the bottom indicated he would be running 9:54 minute miles. All of my training runs had been at a 10:50 minute mile pace.

Did that matter at all in the early race excitement? NOOOOOOO.

I have a bit of an issue in races, in which the extremely competitive side of me leftover from 17 years of competitive swimming takes over and decides to forget the original pace and goal...and make up a totally new, much faster one. This usually ends up fine because my longest previous race was a half-marathon. Presumably, this would be a bad way to approach a marathon.

I got to the mile one mark in just under 10 minutes. Thankfully, something in my brain clicked and said, "if you keep doing this, you will die and I will laugh". The next three miles through the scenic Madison arboretum were not really spent enjoying the scenery so much as arguing with myself over whether or not I was allowed to go fast. During the course of slowing down, I came across a huge group of people surrounding the 4:40 pacer. I allowed them to go past me, and got myself down into my 10:45-10:50 pace. Truthfully, I don't remember much about the arboretum (miles 1-5). I mostly remember wishing I was running alone and not with so many people distracting me.

Around the 10k mark, we emerged from the arboretum and came out on Madison's west side. Despite being a little antisocial in the arboretum, I was instantly ecstatic to see my cheering squad for the first time since the beginning of the race! Even better, they had all coordinated Packer gear and Packer themed signs for my first pass by them!

(RIP Aaron Rodger's collarbone). The notion that Aaron Rodgers might actually think I'm awesome was definitely enough to give me a nice boost going into mile six, which was good because mile 6 is mostly uphill into the campus area. The route took us past Camp Randall stadium where the Badgers play football, and back into what I like to call "deep campus". In deep campus, most of the spectators were college aged guys with no shirt on despite the 35 degree temperatures. On Wisconsin?

10k time: 1:05:32 (10:32 minute mile pace)

In what seemed like no time at all, I came across my cheering squad once again. I realize now that there were a solid four miles in between, but apparently 40 minutes doesn't seem very far within the scope of a full marathon. Once again, they had awesome signs.

I commented that if the criminals could run even a little fast, they could probably run as well at that particular moment. But that's okay.

Leaving the cheering squad for the second time was the first time any nerves set in. I knew the first major hill was coming. I knew the distance was getting up there. I knew it was going to be quite a while before I saw them again. And luckily, my left ankle was randomly deciding to cramp up.

I ran like an ostrich, bouncing around and fully extending my feet towards the ground trying to work out the cramp.

You know how when you're on vacation, you feel okay doing certain things you might not at home because you'll never see anybody ever again? Apparently that same attitude exists towards marathon running, even though you're potentially going to spend the next several hours running near the same group of people. So, ostrich running.

For the record, ostrich running didn't really work so there's no need to try it. Oddly enough, what did work was heading up the first huge hill on the course. The cramps instantly disappeared...........or the pain elsewhere was significant enough to overshadow it. I had originally planned to run the first half and walk the second half of the hill, but as I went up it, most of it did not feel bad at all and I ended up running. I probably walked for less than 2 minutes of the entire huge hill.

As I hiked up the steepest part, I went past some runner berating their friend for also walking. "DON'T YOU WANT TO FEEL PROUD OF THIS RUN? THEN RUN, YOU CAN'T WALK". I wanted to turn around and let her know that if you run 26.2 miles for the first time and don't feel proud because you walked a hill, you need better friends, not a better race. But I didn't.

As we came down the hill through the campus area, I briefly paused my ipod to enjoy listening to all the hungover students accidentally coming across the race on their way to Sunday breakfast comment on their observations.

"Someone should tell these people that running is hard."

"Does that sign say 'mile 10'? That's disgusting."

"I did a 5k once."

Or my personal favorite.....

The girl in what were clearly last night's clothes, being escorted by some poor shmuck in sweatpants, while she periodically stopped and dry heaved while yelling "SORRY" at runners.

Oh campus, you so silly.

Anyways, miles ten and 11 came and went, and I started realizing that I hadn't had any Gu or non-liquid calories, and the last Gu station I had seen was all the way back at mile 5. Luckily, I had packed a bag full of emergency gear for my parents to hold onto, so I knew all I had to do was make it to them and I'd have a delicious brunch of strawberry banana flavored slime.

I encountered them around mile 12, and they rushed to grab a Gu pack out of the backpack. I assured them that this was a freaking long race, and I was in no hurry.

I got my Gu, and was on my way again. I need to remember that Powerbar makes Gu that is actually 100x better than Gu Gu. It's got a little bit more liquid in it, so having it without an entire bottle of water doesn't feel like swallowing sand.

As I headed into the northside of Madison, the crowd got a little bit older as well as more surprised to see a marathon coming through town. Most of the runs are confined to the downtown area. They don't get a lot of love. Many of the spectators seemed to be more on their way to watch the Packers-Eagles game somewhere, so I got a lot of "GO PACK GO" cheers as I headed through.

Somewhere heading north, I crossed the 13.1 mile marker and it occurred to me that if I had any sense at all, I would've been done by then. Sadly, I have none.

Half marathon time: 2:20:23 (10:43 minute mile pace).

Considering my half marathon time at the Madison half last May was 2:26, I could at least be happy that my pace and endurance are quite noticeably improving. On the downside, there is something very mentally daunting about reaching the 13.1 mile mark and realizing you have to do that again. In most races, reaching the halfway point is sort of a point of relief. It's a realization that half wasn't really that hard, and that it's okay to pick up the pace and bring it up.

No such realization happened. Just the mental image of Gob Bluth reminding me, "I've made a huge mistake".

Luckily, my cheering squad was once again only a few miles down the road, and the first emotional breakdown was averted. They were camped out in a north side park, waiting around for me to show up. It was a good surprise, as I wasn't expecting them for quite a while longer.

I felt a little more settled after seeing them, but as the miles rolled into 15, 16 and 17, the mind games really started. The first noticeable issue was not fatigue. It was not muscle soreness. It was just pure, absolute discomfort from the pounding of pavement on feet and legs. It started to feel as if someone had been hammering away at the bottom of my feet.

I knew I was fine for energy and strength, but I wanted nothing more than to sit down on a very soft couch and have my feet rubbed. It started to feel like there was no shock absorption in any joint, and every downhill was driving spikes into my feet and legs.

And so the personal pep talks began. "This is discomfort. Are you willing to put up with 90 measly minutes of discomfort in order to call yourself a marathon runner?" Of course.

As things progressed, I tried my usual motivational strategy that almost always gives me a second wind. I try to think about all the people I worked with at my last job that never had the ability to do something like a marathon (I worked with individuals with physical and developmental disabilities, all in chairs). I reminded myself that by being born where I was, to the people I was, in the environment I was, and with the health that I had was like winning the lottery every single day of my life.

I repeated my favorite line to myself: "I GET to run today. I GET to use my legs today."

That worked pretty well, until it worked too well and got a little choked up and couldn't breathe. So I stopped. But it carried me through a few miles, as well as reassured me that I was getting mentally frazzled.

Mile 18.64 (30km): 3:24:50 (10:59 minute miles)

At mile 19 or 20, I became aware of the fact that I had fallen off the 11:00 minute mile mark. Whatever competitive flame I had been trying to kill early on was long gone. I was really genuinely happy to still be moving, and still be feeling like this was something I could reasonably finish. At the time, the thing I was most upset over was the fact that the 11:00 minute mile pace was very easy to mentally calculate, and it would now be much harder to ascertain where I was. In retrospect, I have no idea why this mattered. But it was a huge deal at the time.

As I worked on mile 20, I contemplated how much math sucked until I came up on my cheering squad again, faithfully waiting for me at mile 20.5.

For the record, those signs say "Run faster, my arms hurt" and "Today you burned 3,000 calories, that's enough for 20 beers". Apparently people were getting offended over the first, and arguing with the second. I'm going to chalk it up to people being cranky at mile 20, but seriously? People are cheering for you, and sarcasm is a real thing that exists. Also leave my awesome fans alone.

My dad asked me if there was anything I needed as I past. I requested new legs, and I think he said something along the lines of "only 6 more miles to go!". Normally, a six mile run day was my second shortest training day. For some reason, 6 miles left felt like "50 miles left" in my head.

As I headed into mile 21, tunnel vision started. Delirium started. I know I passed and said something to both my Captain and a training officer who were directing traffic. I know they said something back, and I think both asked me questions. I'm not entirely sure what the whole exchange involved....if not for my training officer informing me on Monday morning that as I was running away from him, I turned around like I was going to say something and instead just kind of stared at him confused before running off.

I don't really remember most of the road that miles 21-22 were on. I know that around mile 23, we ran past the capitol where the finish line was to do the last 3 miles of the loop. I remember being able to hear the announcement of names as people crossed the finish line, the sound of cowbells, and wild cheering. Something inside me broke a little. Another part of me briefly contemplated peeling off towards the capitol and just being done.

Instead, I followed the course away from the finish line for what seemed like eternity. We were on one of the major highways coming into Madison, headed directly out of town and away from what I knew was the end of all of it. I just started crumbling emotionally. I completely lost sight of all reason for the first time in the race. There was no more "you're almost done, keep pushing". There was just this bleak, "you aren't done" voice in my head. I couldn't physically feel my legs anymore, and it seemed like a miracle that I was not only still moving, but actually running.

Near the turnaround point to head back into town, I was surprised to find my dad and my dad alone, waiting and cheering for me. I informed me that I was about 15 minutes behind the 4:40 pacer, so roughly at a 4:55 pace. This didn't really register as anything at all initially, even though my pre-race goal was to be under 5 hours.

We turned around, and my dad was waiting nearby again, having only crossed the median to the other side of the road. As I approached, he picked up his camera like he was going to take pictures. I don't know if he actually did, or if he saw my face and decided against it. The next thing I knew, I was crumpling in his arms, just hugging him. I think he asked if I was okay, and I told him I was fine but delirious. I only remember knowing that I needed someone to tell me it was going to be okay.

He assured me that I was only about 3 miles from the finish. For some reason, the mistake made me really happy, I told him I was actually super close to the 25 mile mark, and his surprise and encouragement that I was actually super close gave me the second wind (realistically, one hundredth wind) that I desperately needed.

The fog cleared a little somehow. Between my dad telling me it was going to be okay and finally turning around and being able to see the capitol, my brain pulled it together.

24.2 mile mark: 4:33:48 (11:18 minute miles)

As I crossed the 25 mile sign, the realization that I was going to actually make it started setting in. The panic and despair of a few minutes earlier meshed with excitement over being finished, and absolute disbelief that I had made it that far. The result was sheer mania.

I took off with whatever energy I had left, looking like an absolute maniac. The 5:00 pacer met me at the bottom of the hill and started passing me. I ran up next to him with my crazy eyes, looked at him, and said "No". Then I ran away.

I hope he's paced before and is used to crazy people at mile 26.

My mom met me about midway up the hill and started running with me, cheering like hell. My mom is not normally a loud person, but either in my head or in reality she was screaming like crazy for me to finish. I powered up the final hill without even noticing it was there. I was met in the square by the sight of the finish chute, and the crowd getting unusually excited (for that late in the race) for everyone trying to finish under five hours.

I felt like I was sprinting trying to make it in under my five hour goal. In reality, I doubt I was breaking a 10:30 pace.

As I pulled within sight of the finish line, I could see the clock ticking in the 4:58s. Excellent news, since my chip time was actually a minute faster. I was going to break 5 hours! Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Emily and Christine going nuts as they saw me, realizing that I was going to make it in as well.

As I crossed the finish line, I pumped my fists in the air in celebration, looked around absolutely dazed as volunteers attempted to move me in the right direction.....and then immediately began crying.

For the record, I am not much of a crier. It takes a lot. But the sheer emotion of the last five hours, combined with this utter sense of disbelief at what I had just done cause me to totally lose it. As I staggered over to the fence to hug my mom, Emily and Christine....I realized that they were crying which then caused me to cry a lot more. Then some random lady watching us behind them started to cry...and all was lost.

I suddenly pulled it together upon realizing that my dad, who was arriving late since he went out to cheer for me at mile 24 had my beer ticket. In my frazzled, delirious, emotionally wrecked state, I suddenly paused and nervously stated, "Oh god, Dad has my beer ticket."

My mom was able to calm me down and sent me to go take pictures while I waited for my dad.

He showed up on the other side of the fence as I was finishing with pictures, and I was able to hobble over and give him a huge (somewhat more composed) hug as well. I spent the next ten minutes hobbling through the finisher chute, grabbing all the food I could possibly find and asking every single volunteer where the beer tent was.

Priorities. It's all about priorities.

FINAL TIME: 4:57:47 (11:22 minute miles)

We finally located the tent, so my family was relieved of that broken record. All I wanted to do was sit down in the cold grass, so we did that for a while. Sitting is such an underrated activity. As I drank my beer, I contemplated whether the rest of the world understood how amazing sitting was.

Finally, after everything settled and I had a chance to rehash the race a little, I realized that I was starving as well as my entire cheering squad that had been diligently standing out in the cold for me, careful not to eat my one granola bar that I had provided them with. We promptly very slowly headed to a restaurant on the square, where I was able to eat a giant cheeseburger while avoiding eye contact with Packer game because I didn't have the emotional energy to handle our quarterback situation.

Final (Brief) Reflections

My A goal coming in was to finish. My B goal was to get under 5 hours. I accomplished both of my goals, and can now officially say I am a marathoner. What more can you really ask for from a first marathon? I started running about 15 months ago, and am still blown away from where things have gone. I know I'm not even close to being fast or competitive, but just the magnitude of some of this stuff is really hard for me to grasp still.

Half the time, I feel lost in this "training hole" where the race is this really pragmatic measurement of very calculated and disciplined training. And then I feel like I shouldn't be amazed by myself, or at least by the race....it's just a byproduct of something much bigger. Then I say "I ran a marathon" outloud, and something extra sinks in that's more than just "I trained and I did". I did something crazy. Hot damn.

I think there's a lot of reflection left to go, honestly. I've got November set aside as a mostly rest month before I get started with half-Ironman training in December. I think the important part right now (to avoid the ever-so-frequent post-marathon depression) is to stay focused on the bigger picture, stick to the training schedule...and realize that this was a piece to a much bigger puzzle. Not the whole thing, no matter how cool it was.

My first marathon was roughly the same: somewhere around mile 20 I was just delirious and not really thinking, but the finish... Ah, the finish line... One of the happiest moments of my life, followed by 15 minutes of crying and sobbing in the field...

Print this post to show to your kids in 20 years, they will be inspired!

Like Dave, I smiled ... but I also cried. You really captured the essence of that first marathon - all the good and all the ugly ... And your family's love for you (and yours for them) came through so strongly. Congratulations! You rock.

Congratulations marathoner! This is a great RR. The campus "kids" can definitely be silly and crazy but it is fun to run with such great crowd support. I would have to agree about the finish line. My first wasn't as good a finish as yours but I cried. I cried because I finished, I cried because it hurt and I cried because I was happy! Again congratulations you looked so good in your pics!

I love every single part of this!! Congratulations Marathoner!!! And I'm totally jealous of your fantastic race pics - you look gorgeous throughout the entire race! (I usually look like I'm about to die, or about to murder someone)

Ohmigosh I can't even imagine playing Cards Against Humanity with my mom! You are a brave soul!

Great race and great report! I sincerely had a great time cheering for you and couldn't be happier for you and your accomplishment! Things have been fairly lousy for me lately so it was just the positive, life-affirming event I needed! And for the record I had no voice on Monday and had to stay home from work...totally worth it! Congrats on your major accomplishment and being one step closer to your BIG goal!

This is amazing!!! CONGRATULATIONS, marathoner!!!! Isn't it funny the things you remember - I feel like I've overheard those same conversations running Crazylegs also haha:-) The girl dry heaving is priceless though...leave it to Madison to keep it classy haha. I love those signs!!! My friends had one with a sled dog drawn on it that said "Oh you ran a marathon? How heavy was the sled?" which I thought was riotously funny, but apparently they put it away because so many people had a problem with it. Eh.

You ran a great race and got it back together when it got tough!!! And without anyone else or a pacer to give credit to - you ROCKED it!!!!!!! And you took a lot of great pics along the way, which is obviously the most important part;-)

Congratulations! Go ahead, bask in all the glory of your first marathon. Sure, you have bigger plans, but wow, you ran 26.2, and you did it completely on your own terms. An absolutely fantastic achievement, and great RR to boot. Awesome.

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